


Lay Your Hands On Me

by GeekPrincess



Series: Lay your Hands on Me (Panacea) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Dean, Hospitals, M/M, Nurse Castiel, Porn With Plot, Radiographer Dean, Smut, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 10:39:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10534776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekPrincess/pseuds/GeekPrincess
Summary: Radiographer Dean Winchester moved to Kansas City looking for excitement in a busy inner city Trauma Center. He loves his job. He loves hew new friends. And he just may be falling in love with the "Hot Nurse" in the emergency department; Castiel Novak.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Once again massive thanks to the lovely [Kit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanbluecas/pseuds/oceanbluecas) for beta. And to [Areiton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton) for encouragement.
> 
> My beta is amazing - remaining mistakes are mine.

Dean loves his job. It had surprised his family when he announced after two years in and out of junior college that he wanted to become a radiographer. His dad had grumbled a tentative _good luck_ while his mother and younger brother cheered for him every step of the way. He'd worked hard, aced all his prerequisites and his entrance interview. What Dean had known that no one else did (well, maybe his mother knew) was that he _liked_ caring for people. He'd considered nursing school but was afraid of the emotional toll of being that close to his patients.

He'd quickly learned that one bonus of being in healthcare was the the number of women he worked with. Yeah, he sat through lots of talk about “syncing cycles”, morning sickness, and the evils of shitty boyfriends. But he also picked up great dating advice, a killer apple pie recipe that rivaled his mother's (not that he’s boasting), and a level of confidence that was now more experience and less swagger. He made friends throughout the hospital easily. He actually looked forward to work every day, and how many people could say that?

Yes, Dean Winchester loves his job, but he had to admit moving to Kansas City to take an overnight position in a busy trauma center took getting used to. He'd trained and worked in a small regional hospital in Lawrence. The entire staff had felt like family and hell, the patients were practically all neighbors and family friends. KC was different in almost every way. The radiology department was massive and it took him a while to finally meet and get to know most of his coworkers. The biggest difference was the emergency department. Dean's former employer had a twelve-bed ER. His new hospital had a sixty-bed ER and was certified to handle the most severe emergencies.

To say the move had taken Dean some time to adjust to was an understatement. However, a year in he truly felt he had found his niche. He worked ten hour overnight shifts with two other techs; Benny Lafitte, a Cajun with a smooth drawl and a wicked sense of humor, and Jo Harvelle, a petite and feisty Midwesterner who had no problems holding her own with two much larger men. Dean had come to accept that he was a little afraid of her actually. He'd seen her reduce a surgical resident nearly to tears once and hadn’t forgotten that lesson; never question Jo's capabilities.

The ER usually kept them pretty busy. The radiology suite in the emergency department was away from the main nursing stations and kept pleasantly dark to allow better viewing of the monitors where they viewed their images. They'd dubbed it the ‘Bat Cave’ and it was their little oasis in the craziness of the busy trauma center. Dean, Benny, and Jo took turns venturing out to complete portable exams or operate the fluoroscopy equipment in the operating room. On rare slow nights Dean would bring out his old laptop and they'd watch movies between patients. Every now and then a nurse or attending physician would venture in to ask a question or chit chat, but otherwise they were left to their own devices between exams and that suited them just fine.

Every now and then a patient or an event would hit Dean hard emotionally and he'd excuse himself to wander the empty corridors of the hospital; workload permitting. The excitement of the ER drew Dean to this hospital but he was equally grateful for the quiet respite of the halls in the middle of the night. It allowed him to clear his mind - to refocus - and return to his job, ready to go again. In the year he worked at KC, he'd only had to “take a walk” twice before tonight. Sadly, tonight even the quiet and the calm couldn't settle his mind.

As he meanders, his ears pick up the sound of someone playing the piano in the main atrium. Sometimes the hospital paid professionals to sit and play during the day to “create a soothing, healing, environment” or some other bullshit. This time of night it usually sat abandoned and silent, so of course Dean's interest was piqued by the somber tones echoing from the lobby. He quietly peeked around a corner to peer down the length of the main entranceway to the hospital. He was surprised to find he recognized the man at the piano, even from behind.

Castiel Novak sat at the piano. The first time Dean saw him working in the ER he had asked Jo who the “hot male nurse” was, much to Jo's amusement. To be honest, Dean was kinda in awe of the guy.

First of all, he knew his shit. Dean had yet to hear him be unable to answer a patient's question or, if needed, correct a resident. It was impressive. Secondly, he was deceptively good with patients. In actual conversation Castiel sometimes floundered, an annoyed frown marring his handsome face when a pop culture reference or joke went over his head. But give him a screaming child, a panicked shooting victim, or a hysterical loved one whom has just lost a family member, and Castiel shined. He just knows what to say. And last of all, he was _hot_ _as hell_. He had dark hair, sapphire blue eyes, an intense expression, and muscular thighs and ass that scrub pants couldn't hope to hide. Dean would never admit it out loud but the guy had starred in more than one of Dean's racier fantasies.

Dean slips around the corner and eases silently into the room. Sue him, he's curious. Castiel had been working the same trauma that had left Dean shaken and sad. Maybe Castiel was feeling just as unsettled in the aftermath as Dean.

As Dean gets closer, Castiel stops playing, the echoes of the last note hanging in the air. Dean clears his throat to announce his presence, and tries not to grimace as the man's shoulders tense just before he turns on the bench seat to pin Dean with his brilliant gaze.

Dean offers a weak smile. “Hey.”

Castiel's eyes narrow. “Dean?”

And yeah, the fact Castiel remembers his name is doing wonderfully terrible things to Dean's stomach. “Guilty as charged. What were you playing? It was nice.”

“<a href=“https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_v3ZuCCcViI”> _Alone in the Dark </a> _, arranged by Vadim Kiselev.”

Dean licks his lips. “Oh. Well, it's nice.”

Castiel cocks his head with confusion. “You said that already.”

“I, uh, did, didn't I?,” Dean replies bashfully. He steps hesitantly closer. “Sorry if I'm bothering you. It’s just—I was clearing my head after, well, after that shit storm. And when I saw you I thought maybe you feeling wrung out by it too.”

Castiel just stares blankly at him for several agonizing moments. Dean can feel his cheeks starting to heat and he looks away. “Right. I'm bothering you. Fair enough.”

“You aren't bothering me.”

He jerks his head back, surprised by the nurse's reply. Dean takes a deep breath and steps up to lean against the piano. “I've never been in a trauma like the one tonight.”

Castiel's hands settle loosely in his lap as he considers his words before replying. “I've been a trauma nurse for seven years. It never gets easier to see a child die, especially not under these circumstances.”

Dean let's the weight of that settle between them before answering, “Weirdly, that's comforting. I know you grow a thick skin in this field—you have to. But I never want to become so inured that something like that _doesn't_ bother me.”

 A half-smile curls Castiel's lips, his face taking on a bittersweet expression. “That's good, Dean.”

Castiel slides off the bench and Dean finds himself standing up straight in response. He's surprised that the nurse is almost the same height as him. He's never been this close, so close he fights the urge to reach out and touch. A smirk curls Castiel's chapped, pink lips; for a moment he looks so deliciously appealing Dean is tempted to lean in and taste him. Like Castiel can read his thoughts, those marvelous eyes drop to Dean's own mouth, slightly parted and wanting.

“I've used up my break. I'll see you later Dean,” Castiel murmurs, and abruptly walks away.

Dean sags against the piano, adjusting his scrubs. Dear God, the guy shouldn't turn him on so easily. He takes several steadying breaths, willing away the beginnings of an erection, before returning to his own work area for the remainder of the shift.

Things change after that night. Dean tells himself he's imagining things at first. He's doing a portable chest x-ray on a patient when he feels a tingle along his spine—that feeling that you're being watched. He glances over his shoulder and sees no one. It happens several other times that night until he finally spots blue eyes watching him through the open doorway of the patient's room. Castiel never approaches him, doesn't talk to him in the halls. He just watches.

It drives Dean crazy, and seriously turns him on, which is just all kinds of wrong, because a boner in scrub pants? Not cool.

One night, Dean gets pulled into a cardiac arrest, he and the nursing assistant taking turns giving compressions while the respiratory tech gives breaths with an ambu bag. Around them, the resident shouts out medication orders to Castiel while another nurse gets the defibrillator from the room next door. While Castiel pushes the meds, the doctor grabs the paddles and charges the unit to 300 joules. Dean falls back, panting against the wall, face flushed and brow beaded with sweat. Two shocks later, stable cardiac rhythm returns and the tension in the room dissolves. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

Dean wipes sweat from his brow and moves to get the portable x-ray machine when he catches those eyes on him again. They’re storm dark, pupils blown wide, and when they meet his own orbs, Dean feels the connection like a live wire sparking electricity through his core. He barely bites back a groan and flees the room. He shouts for Benny, who’s flirting with a pharmacy tech named Andrea, to get in there for the x-ray. Benny looks confused but acquiesces without complaint. Dean proceeds to lock himself in a bathroom until he calms down.

He realizes then that the attraction is undeniably mutual, that it's possible he could actually have Castiel. The nurse wants Dean just as much as he wants him. Needless to say, he enjoys a few extra moments in the shower when he gets home, imagining those chapped lips, blue eyes, and strong, sure hands. Dean comes so hard he sees spots, sagging against the tiled wall taking ragged, gasping breaths as his heart rate settles.

After his realization, Dean goes to work each night with a growing sense of anticipation. It’s frightening and exciting—and he loves it. The build-up has never been this intense and dear God help him when this tension between them finally breaks.

Jo and Benny, of course, notice. Jo goads him with scathing comments, her acerbic wit razor sharp and honed on his discomfort (and her pleasure). Benny just snorts and shakes his head every time Dean lets himself get flustered, even affectionately slapping him on the back when he nearly drops an armful of film cassettes after Castiel saunters past, actually brushing against Dean despite there being plenty of room in the corridor.

“Oh brother,” Benny chuckles, “You got it bad.”

Dean scowls. He can't argue because _Jesus fucking Christ_ does he ever.

Another week passes. Dean has lost count of how many times he's gone home and jerked off with visions of Castiel in his head. He hasn’t felt like this since he tried—and succeeded—to hook up with Lisa Braedon back in high school. It’s exhausting.

It’s seven in the morning on a Friday. Dean’s tossing his lunch box into the passenger side of his ‘67 Chevy Impala, absently fantasizing about the hot shower and memory foam mattress waiting for him at home, when he’s shaken out of his thoughts by a whiskey smooth purr.

“Hello, Dean.”

He jerks around, heart hammering in response to Castiel’s voice. “Cas—Castiel.”

The nurse cocks his head at him, face thoughtful as he stands with his hip against the back quarter panel of the car. His arms are crossed over his chest, the sleeves tight on his biceps and, _sweet Jesus_ , Dean wants to know what it feels like to have those arms holding him down.

“Dean?”

The blond flushes as he realizes Castiel had asked him a question while he was imagining being fucked by the guy.

“Yeah? I missed that, sorry.”

Castiel licks his lips. “I asked if you’d like to have breakfast with me.”

Dean blinks. “Now?”

A frown mars Castiel’s lovely face. “Well, yes. Unless it’s not— ”

“No!” Dean exclaims eagerly. At Castiel’s confused expression, he quickly stammers out the rest of his sentence. “No, I mean it’s good. Fine. Great, actually. I’m starving.”

Those pink lips that Dean has thought about far too often curl into a smirk. “Okay, me too. I have a place nearby I like. It’s within walking distance.”

Dean locks and closes the door, face split into a wide grin. “Lead the way.”

It’s roughly three city blocks to the place Castiel leads him to. They don’t talk much on the way, just a few basic pleasantries about their shifts. Anxiety is swirling in Dean’s gut so fiercely he isn’t even sure he can stomach eating by the time they slide into a narrow booth in the nondescript eatery.

Dean glances around the place as they wait for someone to take their orders. The joint is tiny, like it was originally one of those corner convenience markets that someone crammed six tables into and slapped a ‘cafe’ sign on the window. He tries not to jump to conclusions until he’s had the food though.

He brings his gaze back to the table to realize Castiel is watching him with an expression Dean can’t name. Dean darts his eyes down to the menu in his hand and chokes out, “So, what’s good here?”

“Most of it, in my opinion. The coffee is average, but the ‘California’ egg croissant is my favorite,” Castiel answers smoothly.

“The coffee is average? That isn’t the best accolade there, man,” Dean chuckles.

Castiel shrugs. “I don’t drink coffee after 3 AM if I have any hopes of sleeping when I get home. I come here for the food. It’s good, cheap, and fast, which is nice coming off-shift.”

Dean nods in understanding. “Okay. Fair enough.”

He licks his lips and considers the menu, pretending he can’t feel Castiel watching him the entire time. Dean is saved from starting an actual conversation by the arrival of their server. Castiel, of course, orders his favorite with juice, and Dean finally settles on a toasted bagel sandwich with extra bacon and water.

As the server walks away, Castiel snorts and shakes his head. “Dean, please tell me you don’t always order extra bacon with your food?”

Dean huffs in mock indignation. “Dude. It’s _bacon_.”

Blue eyes glint as a smile ghosts briefly across Castiel’s lips. “You’re gonna have a heart attack by forty.”

Dean chuckles and leans back in his seat. “Nah, I’ve got good genes. Besides, ‘only the good die young’, as they say.”

That statement makes Castiel regard Dean a bit more intensely. “So you’re telling me you don’t  think you’re a good person?”

Dean grimaces. “No man. Just, you know, I ain’t no goody two-shoes. I’d like to think I’m a decent guy.”

Castiel seems to be considering this as their beverages arrive. He takes a sip of his juice and replies softly, “I think you’re a very decent person. You’re really good with your patients. People like you.”

Dean, curse his fair skin, it definitely blushing now.  

“I like you.”

Dean looks up, startled by the admission. “You do?”

The dark haired man chuckles. “No. I routinely invite people I dislike to breakfast. It speeds digestion.”

Dean can’t help but laugh. “Dude. You’re an ass.”

“I’ve been told that before. I don’t take it to heart.”

“You know I don’t really think you’re an ass, right?”

Castiel rolls his eyes dramatically, a smile tugging at his lips. “Yes, Dean.”

Their food arrives, their conversation ebbing as they eat. A couple of egg sandwiches don’t really facilitate a lengthy breakfast, and soon the little cafe is filling with folks en route to work and Castiel is tossing money to cover both their meals on the tabletop.

Dean frowns. “You don’t have to pay for me.”

Castiel cocks his head at him again, and okay, Dean is starting to find it kinda endearing. “I asked you out. Why shouldn’t I pay?”

“Wait, was this a _date_?”

Dean’s confusion seems to amuse Castiel and he grins, eyes sparking. “Maybe.”

Before Dean can force a response from his frozen tongue, Castiel is up and motioning him towards the door. Dean curses under his breath and hurries after him.

“Dammit Cas, you can’t drop that on a guy and walk away,” Dean bemoans once they’re on the sidewalk outside. He gives Castiel a put-upon look, hoping he’s coming off as adorably disgruntled and not ungrateful. The look Castiel is giving him in return is sexy as all hell. Dean feels his mouth go dry, licking his lips at the hungry gaze being directed at him.

Castiel steps right into his space, nearly pressing Dean to the building behind him. “Well, I thought it best to share a meal before moving things further.”

“Further?” Dean stammers.

“Dean…” Castiel practically growls. “One day, I’d really like to fuck you.”

Dean’s legs nearly buckle as blood rushes straight to his dick. He inadvertently grabs hold of Castiel’s shirt to keep upright, which only drags the nurse closer. Their chests collide and the hot press of muscular pecs against his own forces a low, wanton groan from Dean. Castiel’s nostrils flare, pupils dilating, and before Dean can process what’s happening Castiel’s mouth is crashing into his.

Dean feels brick digging into his back as Castiel presses harder against him, his tongue prying open Dean’s lips and delving inside. Dean welcomes the intrusion, hands grappling for leverage on Castiel’s toned biceps, caught between wanting even more of the man pressed against him and fighting the growing realization this is happening on a busy downtown street during morning rush hour.

A string of blaring car horns finally forces Dean to his senses and he pushes Castiel back. His lips feel bruised as he runs his tongue gently over them before meeting Castiel’s questioning gaze. He struggles to put two words together, mind still playing catch up to the situation.

Castiel seems to take Dean’s silence as rejection, his face going disturbingly blank before Dean’s eyes. He steps hastily away, eyes falling to their feet. He pivots and Dean’s stomach drops. If he lets Castiel walk away now, he knows he’ll never get this chance again.

Dean makes a desperate grab for Castiel’s wrist, “Hey, no! Castiel, wait!”

Castiel stills under his hand, body rigid and gaze remaining stubbornly downcast.

Dean gently squeezes his wrist. “Will you please look at me?”

Castiel complies. Dean offers him a tremulous smile. “Much better.”

“Look, Cas—Castiel. You took me by surprise. Making out on a street corner like a couple of horny teenagers, while hot in a voyeuristic kinda way, probably isn’t the best idea, man.”

Castiel flushes, voice thick with shame as he replies, “No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t usually lose control like that.” He finally meets Dean’s gaze. “I just find you incredibly tempting Dean. I wasn’t sure how to approach this attraction and I…”

Castiel trails off with a sigh. He considers his words for a moment before continuing. “I’ve never felt so intensely for someone I really don’t know well before. I let things get out of hand.”

“Hey,” Dean says gently, “Me too. I mean, almost all of that, okay? And fuck man, you kiss really, really well.”

Castiel flushes again, a lovely dusky rose staining his tanned skin, eyes warming as he smiles back. “You didn’t disappoint either.”

Dean finds himself chuckling. “Okay so. Same page here then? What you said? Yes, I want that - very much. You wouldn’t _believe_ how much.”

Castiel turns his hands in Dean’s grip, taking his fingers in his and squeezing softly. “I live just a few minutes from here.”

“Second best thing I’ve heard this morning,” Dean replies.

“And the first?”

“You saying you wanna fuck me. Obviously.”

That forces a seemingly rare laugh from the man before him. “Good. That’s good.”

Dean steps away from the wall, tugging Castiel’s arm right along with him. “So, your place?”

Castiel licks his lips, a spark of hunger returning to his eyes. “Yes.”

Castiel’s place turns out to be a condo on the fourth floor of a mid-century renovation. Thankfully, there’s an elevator, because Dean doesn’t want to think about taking the stairs with his cock still half-erect. No words are exchanged as the nurse unlocks his door and tugs Dean inside.

Castiel tosses his keys in the vicinity of the living room, kicks the door shut, and promptly pushes Dean against it, mouth hot and demanding. Dean tugs him close, gasping when his cock grazes the solid line of Castiel’s thigh. He begins to rut eagerly against the other man, hands tugging at scrubs, palms sliding against heated skin as they strip one another. They manage to stumble their way into the bedroom, Dean feeling a flash of surprise as his legs hit the edge of the bed right before Castiel pushes him to fall back on the mattress.

Dean grabs the sheets, back arching as Castiel falls to his knees between Dean’s spread thighs. He glances down the naked plane of his body, breath freezing in his lungs as he meets Castiel’s heated gaze. Castiel keeps his eyes on Dean as he leans down, nuzzling his stubbled jaw along the length of Dean’s cock. Dean shudders and moans at the sensation of the coarse hairs dragging across his engorged flesh.

"Cas— _oh fuck_ ,” he moans breathlessly.

“We’ll get to that Dean. I promise,” Castiel purrs. Dean feels the barest bit of irritation at the teasing tone. He glares down his body at the other man, gaze fever-bright and hungry.

As if he can read Dean’s thoughts, Castiel shifts, pressing open mouthed kisses along Dean’s dick before taking the head in his mouth and sucking lightly. Dean nearly howls when Castiel’s tongue presses into his slit, lapping at the pre-cum oozing free. Castiel hums happily at his response, lips pulling into a smile around his girth. He fists the base and takes more of Dean’s length into the wet heat of his mouth, working him slowly but efficiently to full hardness for several minutes before letting the spit-slick flesh slide from his lips and rising to his feet.

Dean makes a rather embarrassing whine of protest until he sees Cas opening a drawer and pulling out lube and condoms. He pushes himself further onto the mattress, palming his erection as he watches Castiel return. Castiel arcs a brow at Dean stroking his cock, working Castiel’s saliva into his skin. The look sends a fresh wave of heat through Dean’s body; he feels like he’s on fire, burning with need for the other man.

“Come on Cas,” he pants, “Need you so bad.”

Castiel climbs slowly atop his supine form, making sure to keep his own turgid length from touching Dean’s flushed skin as he leans down and licks filthily into his mouth. They continue to kiss as Castiel shifts his weight, popping the cap on the lube and wetting his fingers. As Castiel’s fingers first brush his opening, Dean gasps, body jerking. The lips and teeth making their way down the line of his throat serve as a lovely distraction to the initial push of those long, dexterous fingers into his body. Dean feels like he’s dancing on the edge, ready to shake apart with barely more than a knuckle pressed into him.

Dean’s hands find their way into Castiel’s hair, the dark curls lank and loose with sweat. He scratches blunt nails into Castiel’s scalp as he laps at the pert nub of Dean’s nipple. Dean bites back a moan and shifts his hips so Castiel has more room to work. Castiel licks teasingly at Dean’s trembling abs as he adds a second finger, then a third. He takes Dean’s cock into his mouth, once more just sucking on the head, as his fingers curl deep, searching for Dean’s prostate. When he finds it, Dean shouts with pleasure, body seizing, cum flooding Castiel’s mouth.

Dean sighs, a mix of pleasure and remorse, as Cas slides his fingers free. Any embarrassment from releasing so quickly is washed away by Castiel purring with satisfaction as he licks cum from his lips. Dean watches as Castiel rolls a condom on his own straining erection, slicking his cock with more lube before patting Dean’s thigh.

“Roll over.”

Dean shudders at the quiet command, eagerly complying. He presses his heated face into the bedspread, hands gripping the mattress, as Castiel spreads his cheeks and nudges his opening with the blunt head of his cock. Dean groans, “Oh, fuck yes. Please, Cas—Castiel.”

Castiel rocks forward, then back. He repeats these shallow thrusts again and and again, gently acclimating Dean to his girth. Dean groans and lifts his ass, mumbling pleas into the bedding, desperate to feel Castiel filling him completely. Castiel must understand, because finally he spreads his hands, grips Dean’s pelvis and thrusts hard and deep into him. Dean bucks in his grip, crying out in pleasure, “Yes! Like that Cas— _fuuuck_.”

Castiel simply grunts, setting a steady, almost brutal rhythm that has Dean seeing stars behind his closed eyelids, every thrust of Castiel’s cock sparking hot, searing pleasure through Dean’s body. The air is thick with the sounds of their union—the slap of skin, the slight squeak of the bed springs, and their labored, ragged breaths. Despite having just orgasmed, Dean’s cock is filling again, his groin grinding into the bed with each slam of Castiel’s hips.

Dean shifts, getting an arm under his belly, gripping his cock tight as Castiel fucks into him. Castiel growls when he realizes what Dean is doing. He rocks deep into Dean and stills. He carefully moves his right hand from Dean’s hip to snag his arm and pull it away from his body.

“No, Dean. No helping yourself along. If you feel neglected,” Castiel leans forward, pressing kisses to Dean’s shoulders. “Ask me for what you want.”

Dean groans, his entire body shivering with pleasure at Castiel’s possessive yet attentive tone. He licks his lips, gathering his wits. “Please, Cas. I’m close. Fuck, you feel so good.”

Cas actually _chuckles_ and rocks his hips teasingly. “What do you _want_ , Dean?”

“Touch me, Castiel, goddammit.”

Castiel laughs against his back, which, _Jesus_ , Dean finds incredibly hot. Castiel shifts again, causing his cock to slide free of Dean’s body, eliciting a moan of loss from them both. Castiel takes a shuddering breath. “Scoot back to me.”

Dean complies without question, shimmying back until his knees are catching the edge of the mattress. Castiel helps him get his feet under him, his torso supported by his arms resting on the mattress. Cas murmurs praises into his skin as he folds himself over Dean’s body, lining himself up and sliding back in. They both groan at the feeling of being joined once more. Castiel reaches around Dean’s belly and grips Dean’s dick firmly in his hand as he starts fucking hard into him again. Dean’s toes curl into the carpet, hands tearing at the bedspread, twisting it tightly in his hands as his head spins with the twin pleasure of Castiel’s cock rocking hard and hot inside him as his own member is stroked roughly in counterpoint.

It only takes a few minutes before Dean can feel a second orgasm approaching. Castiel speeds up his movements, finally nearing his own release as he milks pleasure from Dean’s shuddering body. Dean shouts hoarsely into the bedding, vision whiting as he cums, body writhing with ecstasy. Castiel rides out Dean’s orgasm, panting hotly against Dean’s back as he continues hammering sharp, jerking thrusts into the man beneath him until he stills, moaning with relief as he releases, filling the condom, and sagging ever so slightly against Dean as he struggles to breathe.

Several moments pass until Cas unfolds from around Dean and carefully withdraws. He discards the condom and pats Dean’s ass, encouraging him to crawl back up the bed. Castiel tugs the stained comforter down and away from Dean, then climbs right in next to him. He lays nestled against Dean’s back, kissing the line of freckles on his sweat-slicked shoulders. “Is this alright?”

Dean hums contentedly. “More than alright. Christ, Cas, that was...” He trails off with a sigh.

He feels as well as hears Castiel’s answering chuckle, the sound reverberating warmly into Dean’s chest. And damn if that doesn’t make his heart skip, affection blooming white-hot in his breast. Dean swallows thickly and licks his lips, pushing those thoughts into the deeper recesses of his mind for later.

“Mind if I sleep?” Dean asks tiredly, voice hesitant.

Castiel nods, swallowing a yawn himself. Dean relaxes into the warmth of Castiel’s body and tries not to think about anything other than catching some Z’s.

Just as he’s falling into sleep’s embrace, he hears Castiel mumble tiredly, “Can we do this again?”

Dean smiles into the pillow, then reaches back, tugging Castiel closer - hoping that for now, this is answer enough.


End file.
